I need a vacation from my vacation

I've been away for about a month now. I think part of the novelty has worn off. I am still pleased to be here, but these past few days it wasn't quite enough to fight off the sadness. I miss my friends and my bed and my plants. I could stand to hold on to something familiar, even just for a moment. I keep having tearful reunion dreams which probably doesn't help, goddamn subconscious. I wandered the streets of Utrecht quietly crying, half in wonder that I am here and half in desperate longing to be back on the couch where I came from. I know this is to be expected, and will pass as quickly as it came. We are moving to Berlin on Sunday. I think the change of scenery will revive my flagging spirits. Holland has been kind to me though. I felt very comfortable here, I got to know my way around the city pretty well, ate some good food, spilled a few drinks with some good people, even ran into old friends and kissed cheeks on the street like I belong here. I haven't been drawing as much as I promised myself I would, which might also be contributing to my feeling soggy in the soul. Aside from a few shitty doodles in the margins of my lecture notes, I have had an artistically dry week. I've been spending a lot of time on the bottom bunk listening to the New Yorker Fiction podcast and wondering how the hell I got here. I have been compulsivley telling everyone how great it is, but it is that great, no joke. I suppose its much more romantic to be sad wandering the wet cobblestone streets of Europe, than feeling kind of dumpy in my cluttered apartment. This too shall pass. I don't regret coming here for one second, its still the best thing Ive ever done, and Im still learning new and amazing things everyday...some of those things are harder than I thought, some of them are about being home where ever I go, or being able to soothe myself when shit gets real. As important as all the critical theory that is being stuffed in my skull. There is an art to everything and I will slowly master this like I learned to weild the pen and brush. Or maybe I need a good hard slap to remind me what a privelage it is to be able to travel at all, and it is. I shouldn't lose sight of that.